


Humanity

by DittyWrites



Series: Gotham Rogues Drabbles [11]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham (Video Games), Batman: Arkham - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Frenemies, Gen, Injury, Minor Violence, Snark, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 22:55:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11542140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DittyWrites/pseuds/DittyWrites
Summary: Walking home at night, Poison Ivy discovers quite the sight as she encounters Edward Nygma strung up on a lampost like a cheap marionette. But as things take a turn for the worst she finds that she had a decision to make about this man that she, frankly, dislikes immensely.





	Humanity

**Author's Note:**

> Someone wanted to see a different version of my Catwoman/Scarecrow fic but with Poison Ivy finding the Riddler instead. Since i don't really ship Ed/Ivy like i do Selina/Jon this isn't intended to be romantic but honestly, y'all can interpret as you see fit x

“Well, isn't this quite the catch.”

Gazing upwards with a wicked smile, Ivy felt a feeling sweep through her as she took in the sight.

Schadenfreude. The feeling of pleasure at the misfortune of another.

And it couldn't have happened to a nicer man.

“Hey, Eddie,” she simpered, “how is it hanging?”

Craning her neck up, she rubbed her hands in joy as she watched Nygma dangling before her. His calves were on level with her head as they swung freely and from what she could see, he was held into position by a single rope which had been secured to a fire hydrant and slung over this chosen lamp-post to keep him elevated.

The rope was looped around his torso and even from her position on the ground she could see the tightness of it as his weight pulled him down and forced the rope to dig in to the tender flesh beneath his armpits.

It certainly did not look comfortable.

And she laughed.

Upon hearing her mirth, she heard Edward growl with anger and it only encouraged her to laugh more. It had been pure chance that she had elected to take this side-street rather than remain on the main pathway but after seeing this she supposed that perhaps it had been divine intervention.

“How very droll, Ivy,” Edward called out, “now if you wouldn't mi-”

His words were cut off as he started to cough and the unpleasant hacking quality of it caused her to back away slightly. It sounded as though he had a cold.

“You are disgusting.” She tutted.

“And you are an absolute waste of life but I am not complaining about it.”

As Edward finally looked up to meet her eye, Ivy jerked an eyebrow up.

He was a mess.

His face was spattered with blood and from the state of his nose and upper lip she had no doubt that every speck of it was his own. The faint shadowing of bruising had already begun to develop on his cheeks and his eyebrow was split open and she could see the died blood which was coating it.

“You having a rough night there, sailor? Did someone beat you up for your lunch money?”

Running his hands along the rope which bound him, Edwards' expression was a mixture of anger and embarrassment as he snarled at her.

“Excuse my french, Pamela, but piss off.”

“How rude, Eddie,” she exclaimed, placing a hand dramatically on her jacket and over where her heart lay, “and here I was going to let you down and everything.”

She moved towards his position, avoiding his legs with care on the off-chance that he got bold and tried to kick her.

“But I suppose I can amuse myself in other ways.”

Placing her hand on his side, she pushed roughly at him to see if he would swing around in position and add another layer of humiliation to his already-humiliating state but as her hand came away from his body she was surprised to find that it was wet.

Glancing down, her eyes widened in shock as she gauged the level of blood which now coated her fingers.

That was never a good thing.

Edward has fallen stubbornly silent as she zeroed her gaze in at the area which she had just touched. Slipping the torn shirt to the side, a wide gash in his skin became exposed to the night air as the steady stream of blood which was dripping from it now fell to the ground rather than collecting in the shirt.

“Eddie-” Ivy started in a questioning tone but was swiftly cut off.

“Edward.”

Ignoring him, she moved away from the wound so that she could look in his face. His chosen career and attitude meant that she was familiar with the sight of his face after it had sustained a beating but as she examined it more closely, she could see that this was different. The blood loss sustained from whatever had ripped a chunk from his side had drained what little colour remained from his face and even his eyes, which always shone with a sharp wit and intelligence, had lost their edge and were dulled with pain.

“Jesus Christ, Nygma.” She muttered loudly enough for him to pick up. “What happened?”

“Black Mask took offence to my investigating one of his bank accounts for an interested third party. He made this offence pretty clear.” He answered coolly, unwilling to show her any weakness.

“For someone who claims to be a genius, you have a terrible habit of making the wrong enemies.”

Even as she spoke, Ivy could feel herself contemplating the decision which she knew was coming.

Leave him or let him down?

The thought of leaving him here to the elements, or at least until a more kind passer-by released him, had an appeal to it which was bolstered by years of mud-slinging and poor relations between the two. But if she left him and he was further attacked, or went into shock from the elements, then she knew the guilt would eat away at her.

His voice broke into her thoughts.

“A fact I am very suddenly, and painfully, aware of.”

As though reminding himself of his own predicament, a shadow of pain crossed his beaten features and Ivy watched as her eyes fluttered shut for a moment before being forcibly opened and held wide to ensure his consciousness.

That was that decision made then.

“Dammit.”

Hissing in annoyance as she withdrew the small knife she kept stowed in her boots, Ivy sliced through the rope which was holding him in place and attempted to lower it gently but the chill of the night robbed her of her grip and the rope slipped through, leaving Edward to fall into a heap.

“Oops.” She muttered, not too falsely, as the heap groaned.

Bending down, she slid her hand around his torso and, taking great care not to disturb the wound, lifted him up until he could stand on his own two feet.

She was not particularly happy with the situation but she didn't want to be responsible for his death.

At least, not like this.

“Are you living around here?” She asked loudly, her voice ringing in the quiet side-street.

“Drop me at Cranes.” Edward groaned in response, his own discomfort with the situation apparent in his tone. “He lives two blocks from here and he owes me a favour. Plus, he possesses enough medical training to ensure that I will not die from sepsis within a week.”

Nodding her agreement, Ivy started on the slow journey as she supported more than Edwards' weight than she had anticipated. He was in worse shape than she had suspected and she really was not in the mood to have to drag a corpse so she attempted to subtly speed up their movement.

The Gotham night was almost freezing and Ivy was glad for her thick coat as it protected her from the chill. Edward at her side was not so lucky and she could feel him shuddering as his hand grasped at his would as tightly as his weakness would allow.

Before she could dwell on this act of charity for too long, Edward was indicating his arm at the door which they needed to enter. However, just as they reached the doorstep, Ivy felt whatever strength Edward was using to keep himself awake leave him as he stiffened for a moment before becoming a dead weight at her side.

Not expecting that, she was unable to prevent his descent to the ground as he collapsed and, sparing a concerned glance for the fallen body, she chapped roughly on the metal door.

Crane could take it from here.

There was silence for a few moments before the door finally creaked open and Cranes' scowling face emerged from the darkness. His arm was positioned carefully behind his back and Ivy had no doubt that he was clutching a canister of his damned toxin in his thin hands. Not that it would do him any good.

“Delivery for you.”

Her voice was calm with only a hint of urgency as she inclined her hand at the unconscious man.

Following her gesture, Cranes' eyes widened briefly in surprise before narrowing at her in suspicion.

“That's not mine and I will not be signing for it.”

“'That' said you owed him a favour,” she challenged, “and told me to bring him here to collect on it.”

Grunting in displeasure but obviously willing to accept her words, Crane opened the door fully and crouched down beside Edward.

“His condition?”

“Passed out from a mixture of pain, shock and possible blood loss. He had a small chunk missing from his left side which is bleeding and will need treated and dressed. Will you be able to handle that, Nurse Ratched?”

Ignoring her and hooking his arms around Edwards' torso, Crane dragged him slowly inside his lair as Ivy stood patiently by the door watching as the heels of Edwards' shoes were the last to disappear into the darkness of the room.

A low thump of a body hitting something relatively soft reached her as the faint shadow of Crane started to creep towards the doorway again.

“You will be ecstatic to know that he will survive,” Crane offered conversationally but his expression turned to interest as he asked, “but why bother bringing him here for help? It is a well known fact that you and he don't quite see eye-to-eye on anything. I, personally, would have expected you to leave him to the reaper. Is this small kindness evidence of the humanity of Poison Ivy herself?”

Pausing to consider her answer, Ivy tightened the belt of her jacket tighter around her body as she mentally cursed his intrusiveness and prepared to leave.

“Humanity is an overrated nuisance,” she answered haughtily, “but, occasionally, it does come knocking at my conscience.

Turning away, she sent Crane one final glance over her shoulder.

“When he comes to, make sure that he knows he is in my debt.”

Not waiting for a confirmation, Ivy strode away from her unexpected troubles and the sound of her heels clacking against the pavement echoed across the empty Gotham street as she retreated into the night.


End file.
